


FROM HELL

by Blaumeise



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:06:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaumeise/pseuds/Blaumeise
Summary: Duff sucked in a breath. Axl. Could things get any worse? Axl here, Axl there, all his life he had had to listen to how perfect and great and fantastic Axl was and, really, why couldn't he be just like Axl. Axl's hair was flaming red of course, and he could blow smoke out of his nostrils and his fireballs were nuclear bombs. He was only two years older than Duff, but his horns were already fully grown out, and had delicately curved tips, and nobody could drive a human soul faster into madness than Axl.
Relationships: Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 16
Kudos: 27





	1. Destruction of the Human Soul

"MY SON!"

Duff ducked his head and thrust his hands into his pockets. If the amount of smoke billowing out of his father's nostrils was any indication, he was in far more than the usual trouble. 

"I'M DISAPPOINTED!"

It wasn't his fault. It _couldn't_ be his fault. Day and night, he had concentrated on evil thoughts, had worked on spreading misery and despair among mankind, and had spun plans about achieving world-domination. It couldn't be just because right before falling asleep he had indulged in a short, tiny, really, really insignificant, little fantasy about love and cuddles and being happy, could it? 

"LOOK AT YOUR HAIR!"

Yes, Duff had done exactly that. In the morning. Right after waking up, full of determination to start into another day of spreading fear and terror. He had walked into the bathroom, practicing his evil laughter, had looked into the mirror and had almost suffered a stroke. Blond. Angelic blond. _Again._ True, a few strands had still been black, but far from enough to hide his failure. 

"I'm sorry," Duff said, shifting from one foot to the other. "But really father, I have no idea how…"

"YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO YOUR FAMILY!"

Duff knew that. The notoriously returning blond was only one of his many problems. His horns wouldn't grow either. At his age they should at least be visible, but they hadn't even broken through his scalp, yet. By now he had almost rubbed the hair away in his constant tries to discover at least a tiny nub under his skin, but there was nothing. Duff didn't dare think about what his father would do if they _never_ showed. 

"TELL ME WHAT I DID WRONG! DIDN'T YOU GET ENOUGH ENCOURAGEMENT? IS THIS JUST A REBELLIOUS PHASE YOU'RE GOING THROUGH? DON'T STAND THERE LIKE A STUFFED DUMMY, SAY SOMETHING!"

Duff pulled up his shoulders. He had no idea what was wrong with him. Ever since he had been a little demonling, things just wouldn’t turn out the way they should. 

"It was almost black," he made a pathetic attempt to explain his latest failure. 

Black was the minimum he should be able to achieve. Sure, red was desirable, but even his father had realized that red was too ambitious for his loser of a son. 

"THEN WHAT HAPPENED?"

Duff squirmed. He hated those interrogations. 'What did you do? Why are your fireballs still too small to even light a candle? Why can't you be like all the other hell-spawns? What is wrong with you?' 

It was hell. Of course, it was. If your father was the Lord of Darkness, life was supposed to be hell. 

"DID YOU PICK UP A PUPPY AGAIN?"

Duff shook his head. He had seen one, next to a waste-bin. He had meant to kick it. _Really._ It had been a cute one, with sad brown eyes and fluffy black and white fur. He had picked it up for no longer than a minute, then he had thrust it into the arms of a little girl, had told her that it was a present and that her parents would be happy if she brought home a puppy. 

That had been evil. Her parents would be angry and yell at her and she would cry and be sad. It wasn't his fault that the next morning he had seen the girl proudly holding the shiny new leash while walking the puppy down the street. 

"I'LL GIVE YOU ONE LAST CHANCE! ONE LAST CHANCE, DUFF, SO DON'T BLOW IT!"

Duff nodded. By now he had had about a dozen last chances and he had blown them all. 

"I WILL ASSIGN YOU A HUMAN SOUL YOU'RE GOING TO DESTROY!"

Duff nodded. Destroying human souls. It was always the same. And he really did his best, but then they started to be all unhappy and cry and then he just couldn't do it. But this time he would pull through. He would just close his eyes and cover his ears and do it. He was no wimp, he was the heir to the Throne of Darkness and he would prove himself worthy. He would be so evil even the hellhounds would tremble and… and…

"…AND TO MAKE SURE YOU WON'T FAIL AGAIN, AXL WILL HELP YOU!"

"Axl?" Duff stuttered.

"AXL!"

Duff sucked in a breath. Axl. Could things get any worse? Axl here, Axl there, all his life he had had to listen to how perfect and great and fantastic Axl was and, really, why couldn't he be just like Axl. Axl's hair was flaming red of course, and he could blow smoke out of his nostrils and his fireballs were nuclear bombs. He was only two years older than Duff, but his horns were already fully grown out and had delicately curved tips and nobody could drive a human soul faster into madness than Axl. 

"NOW GO! AND I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN BEFORE THIS SOUL IS COMPLETELY DESTROYED. GO AND MAKE ME PROUD, MY SON!"

+++

"Earth!" Duff said and tipped his head backwards to blink into the sun. 

"Yeah, fuck," Axl muttered and put on a pair of sunglasses. "It's no surprise they're as retarded as they are. All that oxygen is destroying their brains."

Duff smiled and took a deep breath. He liked earth and he didn't miss the stifling, smoke-and-sulphur-filled atmosphere they had back at home. Sadly, his father didn't like him being up here too often and only ever to do mischief and create disaster, never just for fun. 

"What are we doing now?" he asked and sauntered along the sidewalk, Axl close on his heels. "Do we go to the park or down to the beach or we could…"

"Listen." Axl grabbed his arm and turned him around. He pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose and Duff was reminded of why exactly he didn't like Axl. "We aren't here for entertainment, OK? And even if, watching puppies in the park wouldn't be my idea of a good time. So listen, dimwit, we're going to find this soul, we're going to destroy him and then it's hasta la vista, earth, and we go home to tell your daddy that you've been a good boy."

"I just thought we could have a bit of fun first," Duff mumbled and tried to free his arm out of Axl's grip. 

"The only reason I'm doing this is because your daddy is the boss, you get it, dipshit?" Axl let him go. "Don't pretend I'm your friend or whatever, I'm here to do a job. One you should be able to do on your own, but as you're as stupid as a piece of mouldy bread, you’ll do what I tell you to do and that's it, OK? And in the meanwhile, it would be nice if you could spare me your chit-chat."

Duff sighed. Not that he wanted Axl to be his friend, definitely not. Who wanted to be friends with the teacher's pet anyway? He dragged his feet along while Axl marched briskly down the road. 

"Why don't you show us a ball-lightning, Axl?" he muttered, the voice of their middle-school-teacher still in his ears. Fucking bitch, running to his father all the time and complaining about his son's sadly lacking ambitions and, really, how was he going to rule the Underworld one day if he couldn't even produce the tiniest earthquake. Had she told him about the flood-wave he had created in the water-basin? No. And it had really been a good flood-wave, all rolling and flowing and all the paper-ships had capsized. 

"How are we doing it anyway?" Duff asked after they had strolled down the streets for the better part of an hour. 

Axl rolled his eyes. "You really have to ask that, don't you?" 

Duff shrugged. 

"Look at this guy." He pulled the photo out of his pocket and thrust it into Duff's face.

Duff took it and shrugged again. It didn't look any different than before, some kid with big eyes and curly hair. 

Axl groaned. "You learn this at second grade, you fuckwit. Didn't you listen at all? First you make him love you and then you take everything away from him. Everything that holds any meaning to him, until he's left with nothing but emptiness. It's easy."

"Oh," Duff said. "I thought we could maybe go for the big thing, you know, like money, success, you know. Promise him to become president if he sells us his soul or something like that." He had hoped to show off a little in front of his father to make up for all the disappointments. 

Axl's expression spoke of total disapproval. "Did you look at the picture? Does he look like he wants to be president? And anyway, that would be a number too big for you. No. You’ll do what I just told you."

"OK." Duff handed the picture back to Axl. It was true, he had only vague ideas about how to give power and success to somebody. It was tricky and risky, and most of all, pretty boring. 

"You know how it goes, this love-scheme, right?" Axl sounded a bit worried. "You know, like what your parents did when you were small? Pick you up and hug you and tell you they love you and then, bam, they just drop you and you fall on your head and it hurts enough to make you keep in mind to never ever trust anybody but yourself?"

"Yes, of course I know," Duff replied although it was a little bit of a lie. His parents had spoiled him a bit, although they would never admit it. Nobody had ever dropped him onto his head. Instead he had vague memories of his father whispering to his mother about what an adorable little demonling he was. That had been before he had turned out to be a complete failure, of course. Maybe if they had dropped him onto his head more often it would have been better for his development. 

"Look, there he is." They had reached a crossroad, and Axl stopped him with an outstretched arm. 

"Where?" Duff looked around, but all he saw were cars and shops and…

The rough shove made him stumble forward. Tires and breaks screeched and then everything went black. 

"Oh," Duff said when he came to. Maybe it wasn't a very clever thing to say, but he was looking directly into the most beautiful pair of chocolate eyes he had ever seen, and 'oh' was the only relevant word in his otherwise empty mind. 

"Thank God, you're alive," the eyes said. Or maybe not the eyes, but it didn't make that much of a difference. "Are you OK? Are you hurt? Can you move? Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"

"Yes," Duff said weakly.

"What yes?" the eyes asked. "To which part of the question?"

"To everything." He sat up and discovered that there was a complete face around the eyes and hair; lots of hair; and a body and all in all the eyes belonged to a human being. The soul. It was the soul he had to destroy. Slash. Axl was really one clever bastard.

Duff looked around and saw him standing in the crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk. Axl winked and then pulled his eyebrows together in a silent warning to not fuck up again. 

"You're confused," Slash said. 

"No, I'm Duff."

"Can I take you somewhere? Home, if you don't want the hospital?"

"Oh, I don't know… Yes," he added quickly when he caught an exasperated glance from Axl. "Yes, that would be cool."

"I'm Slash," Slash said and helped him up. "Really, you were shooting out from behind that car so fast, I just didn't see you. I'm so sorry. You sure you're not hurt?"

"I'm OK." Duff let himself be led to the car and climbed into the passenger seat. 

"Where do you live?" Slash asked and pulled the car back into the traffic.

"Oh, that's …," Duff stuttered, "that's pretty far from here. That's…"

"You're not from L.A.?" 

"No. I'm from …. Seattle," he said, remembering dimly that it was a town's name, and hoping it was far enough from where they were now. "What is this town called again?" 

Slash gave him a worried look. "Los Angeles, dude. You sure you're all right?" 

"Oh, yes, sorry," Duff said. Los Angeles. Hah. It had stopped being the Angel's City ages ago when his father had taken over this place by getting the movie-industry up and running. Even Duff remembered that little part of history. "I only just arrived, that's why I forgot."

"So where are you staying?"

Duff shrugged. Where were they staying? Axl had forgotten to let him know. He couldn't help but gloat over the fact that even Axl made mistakes. Now they had nowhere to meet and it would take an awful lot of time until they found each other again, and maybe he could go to the park first before he started looking for Axl. 

"You know what?" Slash said. "You can crash at my place until you've found somewhere to stay. I guess I owe you for almost killing you."

"Oh, it's not so easy to kill me." Duff grinned. Really, as if he was as fragile as a human being. It took a lot more to kill him than running him over with a car. 

They parked in front of a run-down apartment building. Duff was pretty sure that it was owned by one of his father's minions when he spotted a huge pentagram drawn across the letterboxes in the entrance-hall. He should have known. Maybe his father was angry with him, but he would never send him out on a mission without keeping an eye on him. 

Reassured that everything would turn out just right this time, Duff followed Slash upstairs and into his apartment. He had a job to do. Maybe Axl had given him the first shove, but it would be him fulfilling this mission. Him, not Axl, just him, all on his own, fighting for himself, all his evilness concentrated and focussed. This time his father would be proud of him.

+++

When Duff entered Slash's apartment, his first impression was that somebody else had been there before him to wreak havoc and cause destruction. His second thought was that Slash didn't possess anything that was worth taking from him, which would render Axl's plan pointless on the spot. What little furniture he owned, was old and likely to fall to pieces before Duff had managed to make him fall in love. Even if he took it then, it would all fit into a little van without a problem, and would hardly make Slash shed a single tear. 

There was a wobbly chair, a couple of blankets on a rat-chewed mattress, and lots of empty bottles and empty cardboard-boxes and empty fast-food-containers and dirty clothes. Duff was at a loss. If Slash's soul hadn't been destroyed by his lack of worldly belongings yet, the kick of losing the rest of this crap would hardly push him across the edge.

"Nice," Duff said and made a few careful steps. 

"Just sit down. Wherever there's room, OK? Do you want a beer?"

Duff steered towards the chair, but decided against it when he noticed the crack in the backrest. He shoved a little pile of rags off the mattress and much to his surprise, there was a guitar beneath it. Maybe taking the guitar would drive Slash insane, who knew. It was worth a try. 

"You're playing?" he asked.

"Yep." Slash returned with two cans and dropped down next to him. 

"I play bass," Duff said.

"You do?" Slash sat up, suddenly full of excitement. "What do you play? Are you in a band? Do you like Aerosmith? Where's you bass? What type is it? I've got a band, you know, maybe we can jam together one time."

"Sure," Duff said, a little overwhelmed by the reaction. Playing guitar was no big deal in hell. 

"Everybody plays where I come from, you know," he explained. He would have liked to boast a little with how a distant cousin had been the first demon who had ever plucked a guitar into a power outlet, but of course Slash didn't know about hell and how rock 'n' roll was the devil's music and all that.

"Cool man." Slash lit a cigarette and Duff thought that Axl really had no reason to be so smug about his smoke-blowing abilities. OK, Slash couldn't blow it out of his ears, but the rest was almost just a good, and he wasn't even a demon. 

It made him wonder again about where Axl was and about what he was supposed to do next. He had to make Slash love him, but how? That was easier said than done. It required deep thoughts and full concentration and careful planning and all that would be much easier if it wasn't so freaking cold in this apartment. The sun had been shining outside, so how could it be freezing all of a sudden? 

"Could you turn up the heating?" Duff asked and wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. 

"Sorry, but there is no heating." Slash gave him an apologetic look. 

"Oh." Duff's teeth started to shatter. So far, he had only ever heard about it, but never experienced it himself. His father hadn't allowed him to the upper world for long enough to use up all his inner hellfire-warmth, but it looked like exactly that was about to happen. It wasn't a big problem, in a couple of hours his body would realize that it needed to heat on its own and do it, but for now he felt like somebody had bathed him in liquid nitrogen. 

"Dude, that must be the shock wearing off," Slash said when he noticed Duff's shivering. "You want some hot tea or shit?"

Duff shook his head and a bout of trembles shook him so hard that he almost dropped his can. "It's just that much warmer where I come from, that's all."

Slash's expression turned worried. "Seattle?" he asked and Duff nodded. 

"It never gets this cold there."

"They're having snow in Seattle right now."

"Really?" Duff asked. Maybe he should have picked some other town. 

"I think you should lie down for a bit," Slash said. "Does your head hurt much?"

"Not really."

No, his head didn't hurt. Not from the accident at least, but he had to find a way to make Slash love him. Now. Before Axl found him or it would be the same as always and everybody would praise Axl for his brilliance and Duff himself would just be the stupid little twat who couldn't even keep his hair from turning blond. 

He dimly remembered the green witch talking about human vices and the five ways to make a human love you. Sadly, he couldn't recall even one. Or maybe he could? There was something, yes, if he concentrated hard maybe he could…

"Do you want to fuck me?" Duff asked, very pleased with his flash of genius. 

'Sex is the fastest, easiest and most reliable way to ensure the subjugation of a human soul,' the green witch had declaimed in her awfully shrill voice. Axl had been jotting down a shitload of notes during those lessons. No wonder he had later mastered with all the frills and silk ribbon of excellence in Manipulation and Subjugation. It came natural to him. Duff had managed a feeble "fair" in Chaos and Disaster, but that didn't mean he couldn't do anything besides natural catastrophes if necessary. He just wasn't the academic type, that was all. 

He blinked at Slash, waiting for him to melt away in love and affection, but Slash didn't react the way he had hoped. 

"Dude," he said and scratched his head. "You really hit your head, huh?" 

He took the can out of Duff's hands and pushed him down until he was lying flat on his back. Duff stretched out his arms, but Slash just tucked the blanket around him and patted his shoulder. 

"You better get some sleep," he said. "'cause if Steven hears you talk like this, he's gonna take you up on it."

"Who's Steven?" Duff rolled onto his stomach and propped his chin up on his hands. 

"The drummer. Of my band."

"Why don't you want to fuck me?" Duff asked. "It's the fastest, easiest and most reliable way, you know."

"Way where to?" 

"Can I have one of those?" Duff pointed at the cigarette. He had always wanted to try them, but there was no reason to smoke at a place where one inhaled toxic fumes with one’s breakfast-cereals.

"Sure." Slash lit one for him and Duff sucked carefully. 

"Somehow this reminds me of home," he said and suddenly he felt a little lost. He had never been away from home for longer than an hour or two, definitely not long enough to get the shakes and feel lonely. 

"Way where to?" Slash asked again. 

"Huh?" 

"You've said 'It's the fastest, easiest and most reliable way'."

Duff shrugged. "Everywhere, you know."

"You're funny." Slash settled next to him. "I've never met somebody like you."

Duff furrowed his brows. He had thought he had the human behaviour down to a pat, but maybe he had to be more careful. Pretending to be human hadn't been his favourite subject at school. Not that he had had a favourite subject.

"Are you still cold?" 

"You sure the heating doesn't work?" Duff asked, jittering within the blanket. 

"Sorry. No chance." Slash gave him a smile. "You know what? I'll warm you up a bit."

He pushed the cigarettes into one of the beer cans and slipped under the blanket. 

"Good like this?"

Duff wriggled into Slash's arms. It felt good. Almost like in one of his forbidden little fantasies before falling asleep. Before he could swallow it, a purr escaped from his throat, a low, dark rumble of contentment. 

"Jesus Christ, what was that?" Slash asked and Duff winced at the name. Fuck, but it hurt in his ears. 

"What was what?" 

"That sound. Did you swallow a cat?" 

"I didn't hear anything."

"Sounded like a cat to me."

"You only imagined it." Duff wriggled a little more and closed his eyes. Full of relief he noticed that his inner heating was kicking in like a little fire-boost in his stomach. Soon his body would be back to the required 113 F and he didn't have to worry about broken heating-systems anymore. 

"You're so strange," Slash said. "But I think I like that."


	2. Playing the Devil's Music

Duff woke up purring. Still lost between dreams and reality, the soft rumble was enough to shake him fully awake. He quickly checked on Slash, but too his relief, Slash was still deep asleep and hadn't noticed anything. Duff stretched happily and put his head back down onto his naked chest. 

The green witch had been right. Maybe Slash wasn't madly in love with him yet, but he was definitely very much in lust. And it had been fun, no question here. In the middle they had almost broken off because Duff had forgotten to tune down his outer body temperature. Slash had been convinced that he was suffering from some horrible kind of fever and urgently needed medical attention, but a firm grip where it mattered had been enough to quench his worries and convince him that in the heat of the moment everything was possible. 

Duff had always known that there had to be _something_ he was good at. Now he had found out what it was. Maybe he would never be a decent scholar, but therefore he was good with his hands. And several other body parts as well, as it turned out. That was better than nothing. 

He only had to be more careful to not give himself away. Purring in his sleep was something he definitely had to get under control. For once it was a good thing, he didn't have horns yet. He could imagine vividly and in technicolour what would happen if he forgot to keep his horns invisible. It would be a joke he would never live down, for as long as he lived. And demons lived very long.

Axl, of course, would _never_ forget to hide his beautiful horns in the human world. Duff only wished he would also hide them down in hell because Axl and his horns were going on his nerves. It was ridiculous how proud of them he was. They were just a pair of horns, for fuck's sake. Sure, they were all slender and elegant and looked like black, red-veined marble, but that was no reason to show off the way he did. 

Slash stirred under him. Duff stopped being jealous of Axl's horns, and kissed Slash's chest instead.

"Good morning," he whispered and licked over the skin under his mouth. 

"Morning," Slash mumbled. He stroked Duff's naked back, and then his hands slipped upwards to his neck and into his hair. 

Duff crawled upwards to kiss him, but to his disappointment, Slash pulled a face. 

"Baby, I don't want to offend you, but you have one hell of morning breath. What the fuck have you eaten? It smells like rotten eggs or something."

Duff snickered and turned his head away. Devil's breath was not exactly popular in the human world, but it could be cured. He had to stock up on extra-strong tooth-paste. Maybe eating it would help, too. Some demons got a rash from too much peppermint, but luckily, he wasn't one of them. He even liked the taste. 

Slash rubbed his nape and ruffled his hair, and it was hard to not start purring again. 

"I think I've never had sex like this," Slash said and stretched under him. "I swear, one moment I thought there was smoke coming out of your nostrils."

"Really?" Duff fidgeted happily. "Smoke?"

"Yeah, smoke. I thought you would explode."

"I'm good, huh? Like, the best ever, right?" Smoke. He hardly ever managed to make smoke. 

Slash chuckled. "You're definitely strange and funny and special." He petted Duff's head. "Oh, I can feel where you've bumped your head. There's a lump here."

"Nah, there isn't." Duff pressed his head into Slash's hand, encouraging him to rub harder. His scalp was itching and being scratched felt good. 

"Yes, I can feel it. Two, to be precise." Slash's second hand came up and his thumbs moved in little circles over two spots on the top of Duff's head. "Funny. They feel almost identical. Do they hurt?"

"No." Duff suppressed another purr. Then it hit him. "What did you just say?" He sat up and stared down at Slash, who looked sleepy and ruffled and content, but Duff barely spared a thought about it. 

"I asked whether they hurt."

"No, you said…" Duff reached up and felt for the lumps. No doubt, they were there. "Fucking hell," he gasped. "It's happened. It's happened! It has really happened!"

He scrambled out of bed and ran into the bathroom. He twisted his head to the side and tried to get his hair out of the way to catch a glimpse on how the tips of his horns tried to push through his scalp. It was useless. He had just too much hair. 

"Duff?" Slash called out of the bedroom. "What's wrong? Is everything OK with you?"

"Yeah," Duff called back. "Just peachy." He stared at the mirror and fingered the itching bulges on his head. And it wasn't only the horns, the black hair was coming back, too. Yesterday he had only had a few dark tips here and there, but now there was a huge chunk of black hair on the side of his head. It was working. He was on his way to pure, malicious evilness. 

He marched back towards the mattress and treated Slash to a live example of his evil laughter before he slipped back under the cover. 

"Anybody ever told you that it's cute when you giggle like that?" Slash asked and hugged him. 

"Let's do it again." Duff rubbed his head against Slash's chest. As happy as he was about his horns, they were itching. "Come on, fuck me." If one time was enough to make his horns grow and his hair turn black, a second one couldn't hurt. 

Slash laughed and rolled him onto his back. "But only a quick one. I have to meet my band. We have to practice more, or we're getting nowhere."

"Then hurry up." Duff said and furrowed his brows to feel the skin stretch over his horns. Horns. It was sad he couldn't go home and celebrate them properly. He would follow up on the party when they had grown out of his hair. 

+++

Duff was alone. Slash had left to meet his band, and Duff used the time to rummage through what little stuff he possessed. There was really nothing of any worth, so it wasn't a miracle that Slash had no doubts about leaving a stranger alone in his apartment. 

He was just busy going through a box full of guitar-strings, when the ringing of the telephone startled him out of his ponderings. He hadn't noticed a telephone, but the ring was unmistakable. Duff stood up and followed the sound. Strangely enough it came out of the cupboard next to the kitchen-sink. He opened it and saw a banana vibrating on one of the shelves. Axl was such a show-off.

"Hi Axl," Duff said into the banana. 

He considered telling him about the horns, but decided against it. Axl would only use the opportunity to brag about his own again. He even rubbed them down with horn-polish at least once per day, to make sure they never lost their shine. Duff just wasn't in the mood to exchange beauty tips. 

"Does that mean he hasn't thrown you out yet? Good. Maybe there's still hope for you."

Duff rolled his eyes. "What do you want?" 

"Listen. I suppose by now you've found out that Slash plays guitar, right? So, when he comes back you tell him that your band is looking for a guitarist and whether he wants to give it a try."

"My band?" Duff asked. "I don't have a band." He had been so busy working on his career of viciousness that there really hadn't been any time for anything else. 

"You now have one. We meet at… Do you have something to write?"

"Slash does have a band, he doesn't need another one."

"Not anymore. Get something to write."

"One moment." Duff put down the banana and went in search for a piece of paper and a pen.

"OK," he said and scribbled down the address. 

"I've picked up some guy in a bar. I think he's the right one," Axl said. "Oh, and don't be surprised, I modified his memory. He thinks I'm his childhood-buddy."

"Yeah, OK. Axl, I …"

The line was already dead before Duff could demand any more explanations. 

"I modified his memory," he muttered. "And now I'm employing all my other super-demon-powers to show how awesome and fantastic and brilliant I am." 

He peeled the banana and bit off the tip. For once Axl's swagger didn't bother him. Not when his hair was turning black and his horns were breaking through and his body was still tingling pleasantly from the last fuck.

+++

"I don't get this." Slash gulped down the last sip of Jack Daniels and tossed the empty bottle to the side. "I really don't get this. This must be the twilight zone or something."

"What's wrong?" Duff asked and tried to snuggle up to him, but Slash fended him off. So, Duff stretched out on the mattress, leaving about an inch of space between them, and waited. 

"My fucking singer just told me that he was joining the navy, and my bassist is going to Africa as a missionary. I thought it was a joke, but they had already packed their bags and sold their equipment."

"Oh," Duff said. It was not difficult to realize that Axl had his fingers in there, and so this was the moment to bring his request forward. "You know, my band, you know, we're looking for a guitarist."

"You do?" Slash looked sceptical. "Yesterday you didn't even know whether you had a band or not."

"Yesterday I fell on my head, remember? I was confused."

"Yes, and it was all my fault." Slash looked guilt-stricken.

Duff used the opportunity to nestle against him. "And wasn't it good? We'd never have met."

"Yes, we would have." Slash stretched out his legs. "You're new here, OK, but within a couple of weeks you know every musician in L.A. It's a bit incestuous, you could say."

Duff pressed his nose against Slash's neck to smell his skin. He should have gotten more serious about destroying souls ages ago. It was unbelievable he had missed out on all this fun for years. 

"So, are you gonna give it a try?"

Slash sighed. "Why not. Who's in it and what are you playing?"

"Just come and have a look," Duff hedged. It was better to be careful, although he had a pretty good idea about what to expect.

A million to one that Axl had appointed himself lead-singer. Ever since kindergarten, where they had still been playing with matches and had tried to push each other into the lava-pond, Axl had snapped up each and every lead part in each and every play and performance they had ever had. 

Not that Duff had been keen on spending his time learning loads of text and lyrics, but it would have been nice, if only once he would have been cast as something else than some kind of unimportant angel, who was slaughtered by the victorious demon during the first act. Blond hair was a curse. Of course, he had always looked good as a corpse, sprawled over the stage with his long arms and legs all twisted and his hair like a halo around his head. Now that he thought about it, maybe horizontal had always been his position. 

+++

Duff had been right. Of course, Axl would sing and be the frontman and the entirely most important person in the band. He didn't make it explicit yet, but Duff knew the signs. Axl was ready to take over. 

He had dragged in some moody, dark-haired guy named Izzy who would be the second guitarist.

"Hi, I'm Duff," Duff said, but the guy just gave him a confused look.

"I know you, Duff," he said. “Drunk again?”

Duff bit his lips. He had forgotten about the memory-modification. 

"This is Slash," he said to divert the attention from his glitch. "He ran me over with a car and then he fucked me."

Izzy grinned. "Smooth seduction tactic." He stretched out his hand. “I fully approve.”

Slash shook it, but Duff had the feeling he was a bit upset about the statement. Maybe he felt still guilty because of the accident. 

"Are we playing now or what?" Slash asked and took his guitar out of the case. 

"How did you get my bass?" Duff whispered when Axl handed it to him. 

Axl gave him a nasty grin. "Unlike you, I'm not banned from hell until I prove that I'm not a total idiot. While you were busy getting your asshole stretched, I have prepared the next step."

"And that would be?"

"If I let you know, you only fuck up. Just do what I say and don't rack your brains about it. It's gonna all turn out right."

Duff had his doubts, but this wasn't the moment to discuss it. Most of all he was developing second thoughts about whether he really wanted to destroy Slash's soul. He had a pretty soul. Duff had already caught a glimpse on it and it was a very nice specimen; not as clear as most, rather a little smoky and it dimmed the light just like fog would break sunbeams on an autumn-morning up on earth. 

He would much rather hold it in his hands and look at it instead of shattering it as he was supposed to do. Maybe he could talk about it with his father. If he had enough sex and his hair turned black and his horns grew out, maybe his father would let him destroy something else in exchange. A couple of hotel-rooms for example. Something like that. 

"Duff!"

"Huh?" Duff looked up from his bass. 

"Are we jamming now or what?" Izzy asked. 

Duff hadn't played much in quite some time, being too busy with all the tasks his father heaped on him, but he found back into the rhythm without problems. Slash's style was a bit different from the usually more chaotic demon-rock, but he soon found a way to balance it. 

"You don't have a drummer?" Slash asked when they made a pause. "A friend of mine is playing drums." 

Axl shrugged. "Bring him," he said. "I didn't have the time to find one yet."

Later they went to a bar to celebrate the birthday of their new band, and Duff noticed full of pride that Slash and Izzy had the same healthy approach to drugs and alcohol as every demon he'd ever met. Some humans were a bit strange there, but Slash was apparently free of their obscure fears. If it wasn't for the fragile little soul inside him, Duff would have never believed that he was human. 

He wondered if it was jealousy that made most demons so obsessed with destroying souls. Demons didn't have souls, and like every other devil, Duff was fascinated by them. But he could enjoy watching them while they were still inside their legal owners. He didn't feel the need to collect them in jars or keep them behind glass, leave alone destroy them. 

He sneaked another glance at Slash's, and watching the smoky, twirling light made him feel all happy and warm inside. 

"Why are you smiling like that?" Slash asked through a cigarette. 

Duff put his head onto his shoulder.

"We're gonna have a shitload of fun together," he whispered and blinked against the smoke. "You're lucky, you know? That you've met me. Because I'm not going to put your soul into a jar."

Slash laughed. "I hope so," he said. 

"I might pick it up now and then to hold it in my hand, you know." Duff closed his eyes in bliss. He was a little drunk. Or maybe a lot. "But I promise to give it back."

"Duff!" he suddenly heard Axl's voice. "You're talking nonsense."

Duff didn't bother to look at him. Axl could go to hell for all he cared. So what, if his father wouldn't let him come back? Yes, he would miss his family, but if he had to make a choice, he would just stay where he was. 

"Let him," Slash said "I like hearing him talk nonsense." And Duff almost purred when he felt a hand brush over his budding horns.

+++

"Have you lost your mind?"

Duff stared back stubbornly, but Axl didn't waver. Of course, he didn't. Axl could stare down the sphinx if he set his mind to it. 

"What was this shit you told Slash yesterday? That you would give his soul back to him?"

Duff shrugged. It was difficult to explain, especially if the whole purpose of what they were doing was to _not_ give it back. 

Axl shot a quick glance at Slash and Izzy, who were asleep in the corner. As if there was any danger of them waking up after Axl's knock-out-spell. His voice had been shrill enough to make the windows shatter. He had probably put the whole block to sleep. 

"Do you have any idea about the trouble you're getting yourself into? Your father may be the boss, but that doesn't mean he can protect you from all your idiocies."

"I know," Duff mumbled. "I was just drunk." Drunk and happy. 

"That's no excuse!" Axl screamed. "I'm working my ass off here and you… you…"

"I didn't ask you to," Duff snapped. "Why don't you just go home and leave me alone."

"I'm not doing this for you," Axl snarled. "You were born with the sulphur spoon thrust so deep down your throat, you have no idea about real life."

"So I'm just a step on your career-ladder, huh?" 

Not that it was something new. Axl would use what- and whoever he could if it made him look good. 

"Listen," Axl said and his voice trembled with the effort to keep it calm and reasonable. Axl preferred to yell at people. Being calm and reasonable was not easy for him. "You're killing yourself, Duff. You know that. You might be a stupid twat, but that doesn't mean I want to see you dead."

Duff flinched. It was a thought he usually avoided, but Axl was right. Hell was just like that. You didn't fall in love with humans, and you didn't worry about how pretty their souls were. In hell, life and death lay close to each other. 

"So, are you going to be sensible or do I have to tell your father that you're too stupid to be allowed out of hell on your own?"

Duff shook his head. Axl was right. He was a demon and he had to behave like one. It wasn't so difficult when he was down at home, a safe distance between himself and his victims, but as soon as he had to face them personally, all his determination vanished into limbo. 

He looked at Slash, who was deep asleep, his face hidden under his hair. He wanted to go over and ruffle it and snuggle up next to him and steal another couple of glimpses at his soul. 

"I'll do it," he said. "OK? I'll do it. As soon as he hands me his soul, I'll smash it, OK?"

"You'd better mean what you're saying," Axl said darkly. "And we'd better do this quick because you've already managed to piss off quite a lot of people with your behaviour."

"You mean they're watching?" It was an unsettling feeling. He knew this was a test, but he hadn't been aware that he was being tailed.

"Of course they are. What do you think? And if you fuck up, somebody might decide it would be better to get rid of you before you can do any more damage."

Duff shrugged, but he knew he couldn't hide his fear. Axl was right. It was better to do this soon, before he was too lost to do any harm to Slash, and ended as lunch for the hellhounds. It would be a pity to die before his horns had fully grown out. He didn't even know yet what colour they would be. 

+++

Quick. Hah! It didn't work out as quickly as Axl had hoped. Slash guarded his soul carefully, and although Duff spent hours watching it, he couldn't get his hands on the shiny little ball. Whenever he reached out it seemed just an inch out of his reach. 

Another worrying thing was that, no matter how much sex he had, his hair remained blond. The amount of black changed from day to day, leaving Slash more than a little puzzled, but it was never more than a hand full of strands. Evilness was a tricky thing. 

At least the band took off quite OK. They hauled their equipment across town in a rusty old van that belonged to a guy named Rodney. Rodney's soul, Duff thought, was a thing he would have loved to destroy. He was a boring creep, following them around to get his share of the girls they attracted, but he owned a van and so they had to keep him at least halfway entertained. 

Reducing him to a soulless hell-drone wouldn't bother Duff the least. In fact, he had his doubts that it would change anything about Rodney's behaviour at all. Maybe there was time for it later, when he was done with this freaking assignment. Although being nice to Rodney in order to make him hand over his soul was not a pleasant thought. 

How urgently they needed Rodney's van became clear one evening, after they had left the club they had been playing, only to find out that the van was gone. It was a huge problem, especially as it contained all of their equipment. 

For the better part of the night they ran around town, searching the streets and trying to find somebody who had just seen anything, but the van remained stolen. They returned home in the early morning hours, exhausted and defeated. 

"We just start new," Duff whispered and wrapped his arms around Slash. Slash had gone from upset, through angry to completely devastated in only a couple of hours. Now he had his face buried in Duff's not-so-black hair and his soul was more clouded than ever. 

"We'll get the money," Duff continued. Really, how difficult could it be? A couple of thousand bucks here and there. They could steal handbags from old ladies, or rob a liquor-shop or a gas-station or a bank. There were countless possibilities. 

"It won't even take all that long. Then we start new and better than ever, you'll see." He petted Slash's head. "Really, if this was enough to give up, it would be pathetic. That's the good thing about us, you know. We'll never give up and we'll show all those fucking assholes out there who we are, you'll see."

Yeah, that was the way to go. Duff could already feel his depravity and evilness grow to never known heights. Anger was the way to do it. Maybe that was his problem. He had never been really angry before in his life. Not to the point where killing seemed too kind a fate for his victim. But now he was. 

"I'll get that bastard who stole our stuff," he said. "I won't stop at stuffing his soul into a jar. I'll slice his balls to tiny pieces and toast them over and open fire and then I'll make him eat them. And after that, I'll let them grow back and start new and I'll keep doing that for at least a century, just wait and see. So, don't you dare get all moody and whiny now, do you hear me?" He shook Slash slightly. "'Cause this is just…"

Duff broke off. There it was, all warm and glowing and he was holding it in his hands. The clouds had cleared a little and Duff turned it slowly around, marvelling at its beauty. 

"Good boy," Axl said. He was slumped against the doorframe, hands stuffed into his pockets, one foot casually crossed over the other. "Now drop it."

Duff stared at Slash's soul, overwhelmed by the old, demonic fascination at something so precious and awesome. Something he would never have, if he didn't steal it from somebody else. 

"I…"

"Drop it," Axl repeated icily. "Stop staring at it or you'll never do it."

Duff looked at Slash, who had stopped moving at all. He wouldn't even notice what had happened. He was nothing without his soul and even now, for the few moments that Duff was holding it, his body was without life. He simply wouldn't wake up again. Oh, he could be resurrected by the use of lightings and hellfire, but he wouldn't remember what he had been before. Maybe there would be a weak notion now and then, that a long time ago he had been more than just a shell without a will. What exactly, would stay forever outside his grasp. 

"Duff!"

Duff closed his eyes and lifted the soul a little. It didn't weigh much, and it was so fragile it would probably crack if he squeezed it too hard. All he had to do was open his hands and let it fall. It would shatter into a million pieces and be gone for good. 

"I can't," Duff said and opened his eyes. "I just can't."

"I knew you'd fuck up," Axl said. "I knew it right from the beginning. And I bet your father knew it, too."

The explosion slammed Duff backwards against the wall. Lightings flashed, firework, dynamite, everything Axl could come up with, and even before the world went black, Duff knew that he had opened his hands.


	3. Wreaking Havoc All Over the Planet

"MY SON!"

Duff thrust his hands into his pockets. 

"I'M PROUD OF YOU!"

Duff shrugged. He didn't care. He didn't care that his hair was black as coal, or that he could already feel the pointy tips of his horns breaking through the skin, it had all lost its importance. 

"BUT WHY HAVEN'T YOU RESURRECTED HIM, YET?" 

"I don't know." 

Duff stared at Slash, who lay in the little cage next to the throne. Where was the point in waking him up, when all he would be was a soulless hell-servant? It was better to leave him dead.

"I HOPE YOU HAVE NOW OUTGROWN THIS PHASE OF YOURS. I HOPE YOU WON'T GIVE US ANY MORE REASON TO WORRY. I HOPE YOU'RE GOING TO BEHAVE LIKE A DEMON FROM NOW ON."

"Sure." 

He should be happy, shouldn't he? For once his father was content, nobody was laughing about him, nobody was whispering behind his back. 

Duff looked at Slash again. He wouldn't resurrect him. It was better to leave him dead and forget about him, than watching him walk around hell and being reminded of what he had once been. He would gladly give up his horns and black hair and everything he had and… and why hadn't he thought of this before?

"Half of my powers!" Duff shouted. 

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY!?!"

"Half of my powers! Slash is going to make an awesome demon. He's got all it takes and…"

"NO!"

"It's the law!" Duff yelled desperately. "If a demon offers half of his powers, a soulless human can be turned into an equal!"

"ONLY IF I AGREE AND I DON'T AGREE! WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOUR HEAD? WILL THIS DRAMA NEVER END? GO INTO YOUR ROOM AND THINK ABOUT WHAT YOU HAVE JUST SAID!"

"But I …!"

"I SAID GO INTO YOUR ROOM! I WILL THINK ABOUT YOUR PUNISHMENT! OFFERING HALF OF YOUR POWERS TO SAVE AN UNIMPORTANT HUAMN WHEN YOU HAVE HARDLY ENOUGH POWERS FOR A DECENT DEMON YOURSELF!"

Duff growled deep in his throat and to his own surprise a tiny cloud of smoke billowed out of his nostrils. Never in his life had he been so angry. He turned on his heel, and more smoke steamed out of his ears while he stormed off to his room. 

"I hate you!" he screamed and banged the door behind himself. "It's my fucking right to offer half of my powers, and I shit on the fucking throne and I don't want it anyway and I want to go back and become a musician and have fun instead of doing all this bullshit and destroy souls and be evil and stuff."

"Wow," Axl said while his body appeared in front of the fire-place. "I'm impressed." He shook his head and a sparks rained out of his hair. 

"What are you doing here?" Duff asked and threw himself onto his bed. 

"I've been waiting for you." 

And, of course, he couldn't just come through the door, no, he had to materialize out of the flames. 

"What for?" 

"Because pretty much everybody heard you yell in there. Did you really think your father would accept your offer?"

Duff stared at Axl, and wished he knew how to make a ball-lightning to blow his head away. 

"What does it matter?" he asked after a while. "His soul is gone. Even as a demon, he still wouldn't have a soul. It's over anyway. And it's all your fault."

Axl sneered. "Sure," he said. "Do you have an idea how much of an uproar you have created when it became obvious that you were falling in love … in fucking love… with a human? You know the punishment for high treason, right? And that's what you were about to do! Falling in love is something that shouldn’t happen to you anyway, but with a human? How naïve are you, Duff? You were throwing your life away."

"It's my life," Duff said stubbornly, although he shivered a little at the thought of the hell-hounds. Being torn to pieces was no desirable way to die, so much was clear.

"And anyway, you didn't destroy his soul. It's still there."

"I didn't?" Duff sat up. "Where.. how… when…?"

"It's here." Axl pulled something out of the fire.

"His guitar! You locked the soul into Slash's guitar!"

"It was the only thing I had at hand."

"But it was stolen."

Axl rolled his eyes. 

"That was you, too," Duff growled. "You stole the equipment."

"Of course it was me. What did you think?" Axl shook his head. "Anyway, when you dropped the soul, I caught it. It's in here. You can have it." He carelessly tossed the guitar onto the bed.

Duff pulled it towards himself and touched the wood. He could feel it. It was in there, warm and pulsing. 

"How do we get it out?" 

Axl shrugged. "That's the problem, right? It's been too long. I don't think Slash's body would take it back."

Duff stroked the guitar. Axl was right. A soul that had been separated from its owner for more than just a few moments wouldn't find its way back anymore. It would be lonely and haunted and bodiless. 

"It would be best to leave it just in there." Axl sat down on the bed. "You can keep it or give it to Slash. It's his after all. But if I were you, I would just keep it." He grinned nastily. "He'd do whatever you want if you have his soul, you know that."

"He wouldn't even know what a soul is," Duff replied. "I'm not going to resurrect him."

"Who talks about resurrection, huh?" Axl laid back and crossed his arms behind his head. 

"You heard my father." Duff ran his hand over the neck of the guitar and the strings vibrated with the life of the soul inside it. "He's not accepting my offer." 

He would keep the soul. Even if Slash was dead, he would keep the soul. And he would remember. Every day for the rest of his life he would remember what he had destroyed. He would listen to it sing inside the guitar, sad and lonely and lost. 

Axl laughed. "He doesn't accept it from you because you're such a poor excuse for a demon that it's a shame to call you one. But he did accept it from me."

"You…" Duff stared. 

"He said we could do it this evening." Axl turned his head into his direction. "You were right in at least one point, you know. Slash would make an awesome demon. Probably a better one than you."

"But… your powers. You're giving him half of your powers?"

Axl sat up. "Don't pretend I'm doing it because I like him. Or you. Or anybody. I do it because it makes sense. Good demons are rare, and if you can create one you should seize the opportunity." He stood up from the bed and walked towards the fire. "So, think about whether you're giving him his soul or not. He might want to keep it as a souvenir."

"Thank…" Duff blinked as Axl exploded into a burst of fire and was gone. "…you." 

A demon. 

"Hush," he whispered when the soul started to whine inside the guitar. "He'll be back. Soon."

+++

Slash purred. 

Duff loved the sound. It was a dark, rolling noise, deep down in his throat, and he gently rubbed his thumbs over Slash's tiny horns to make him purr louder. It always worked. Slash tilted his neck backwards to push his head deeper into Duff's hand while he twitched in ecstasy. 

Maybe he should be jealous that it had taken Slash no more than a week to show the first signs of horns, but Duff didn't mind. He didn't mind either that his own hair was blonde again or that his own horns had hardly made any progress at all. Each day he twisted his neck before the mirror to get a look at them, but they were still too small. It was frustrating. Or would have been if he had still cared about such things.

Just a few more weeks until Slash knew everything there was to know about being a demon, and then they would return to earth and wreak havoc all over the planet for at least a decade. Axl would come, too, and together they would create terror and disaster and play rock 'n' roll. They would have a shitload of fun. 

Another sound caught Duff's attention, and with a sigh Slash rolled away from him and sat up. 

"Yeah, it's OK," he said and stretched his arms over his head. "I'm coming, so stop whining." He fetched the guitar and settled back on the bed to play. 

"You know, it's going on my nerves," Duff said and snuggled up to him. "You leave it alone for a couple of minutes and it starts whining and whimpering until you come and play. Really, you've got the most annoying soul in the world." He laid a finger onto the guitar's body and felt the soul's content hum inside. "It's such an attention-whore."

Slash laughed. "Are you jealous?" he asked and managed to ruffle Duff's hair between two chords.

"Not really." Duff sighed. No, he wasn't jealous. "It's a beautiful soul, you know. And it's a good thing you still have it."

"Yeah, I…" Slash broke off. "Oh wow." He put the guitar aside and Duff yelped when Slash pulled his head into his lap. "I can see your horns. There they are." He rubbed his thumbs over the tips, but Duff didn't have the patience for caresses. He ran into the bathroom and pulled his hair aside to get a look himself. 

Slash was right. There they were. Clearly visible for the first time. 

"Fuck!" he yelled. "Motherfucking bullshit, this… this…. Argh!" 

"What's wrong?" Slash appeared in the doorway and leant against the frame. "All the time you were complaining that they wouldn't grow, so what's wrong with them?"

"What's wrong with them?" Duff screamed. "You're asking what's wrong with them?" 

"Yeah. I think they're pretty."

"Pretty?" Duff pulled his hair away and stared at them in disgust. This was the worst that had ever happened to him. It was humiliating. It's was an abomination. It was something that shouldn't be allowed to happen to any demon. He would just tear them out or burn them off or… or… He would think about something. No horns were better than these horns. Only a halo would be worse. 

"But what's wrong with them?" Slash stepped up behind him and rubbed the tips between his fingers. "Really they're beautiful. And they look good on you. I like them."

Duff took a deep breath. Slash had no taste, really. And he had no idea what was important for a demon. There was nothing to like about these things growing out of his head, nothing at all.

"Slash," he said softly, wondering how to make him understand that this was close to a natural disaster. "They're golden, for fuck's sake!"

-The End-


End file.
